If Things Were Different
by Boque
Summary: In a life Ginny labeled hell, Harry Potter is a Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson is her best friend and Vincent Crabbe is the Quidditch Announcer. She and Hermione now have to play the parts they were given, find a countercurse, and finally get back to their di
1. Chapter I l The Shift

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"**Chapter I - The Shift**"

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Feathery kisses were placed on cheeks and lips were smacked against each other. Giggles and giddy sighs were flying their way across every hallway. Couples everywhere snogged in the nooks of every corner and many of the teachers were having a hard time breaking them apart.

Ginny Weasley, hater of all that was love, huffed her way past the chaos that seemed to manifest itself in the main hallway. She pried off zooming hearts from her shoulders and shoved anyone that became an obstacle before her.

She spotted Hermione just a few meters away and she quickly sped up her pace, shouting, "Hermione! Hermione!"

Said girl spun around fiercely, her cheeks glowing.

Ginny caught up with her and threw her a questioning look. "What's gotten into you?" she asked curiously.

Hermione sighed heavily and Ginny tried her best not to roll her eyes. "Your brother's a dear, Gin," she stated, twirling a red rose in her right hand. "Although his brain cannot hold much significant information, he has still got an unbelievable way with words."

Ginny shut her eyes and groaned. "This insufferable plague has sucked you in, too!" she pointed out, throwing up her hands in defeat. "I'm going to go and stuff my face," she informed her best friend, "it's my own way of filling that void I'm feeling."

Dazed, Hermione absently nodded and trailed behind the furious red-head, eager to sit and daydream about the man who'd never let her go.

Ginny plopped herself into her seat and stared at the boy across from her. "Harry, whatever are you doing?" she inquired.

Lifting his head up and stopping all movement in his hands, Harry answered, "I'm trying to kill whatever animal was hidden in this card."

"Animal?" Hermione glanced at his hands and gasped. "Harry, stop it!" she ordered, grabbing the ball of fur and stroking it. "What's the matter with you!"

Harry's face twisted into disbelief. "What on earth are you doing, Hermione? That thing almost bit my arm off! I opened up the card and it attacked!"

Ginny snorted. "It's the size of my fist, Harry. I doubt something as tiny can devour you," she jeered, laughing heartily as she grabbed a slice of bread. "It's a Jiggershyff," Ginny informed him. "They're very common among forests and woodsy areas. Their bite isn't as deadly as their cuteness."

Hermione cooed softly. "Hi, there, fellow."

"Where's Ron?" asked Ginny, scanning the Great Hall for her brother. "I'm surprised he isn't reciting sonnets and singing ballads for his darling princess."

Hermione glared at her. "I resent that, Ginny. It's rather rude for you to be so blunt with me. _You_ may hate Sweethearts Day, but _I_ welcome it. Your brother must've spent a lot for this rose. It will never wilt, nor will it ever die. It's a Chantal Rose. It's charmed to be the most romantic rose in the wizarding world."

Feeling guilty and ashamed, Ginny threw Hermione an apologetic glance. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I just haven't been very happy lately. All these bloody couples and their incessant snogging is literally consuming me. If I see one more tongue shoved down one more throat, I might just-"

"Oh, Seamus," gushed Parvati Patil, throwing her arms around her boyfriend and kissing him senseless. The very smug and lucky boy wrapped his arms around her waist, his right hand somehow landing directly on her bottom.

Ginny tore her eyes away in disgusted horror. "I'm going to shoot myself. I really am. Honestly, is kissing your significant other in public necessary? I find it horribly frightening. My eyes are so tainted with these _sexual_ charades that I might just go and find myself someone to snog with. I'm that influenced. It's _sickening_."

Giving her an odd look, Hermione placed her rose carefully on the table and folded her hands. "Pouting and complaining isn't going to help you, Ginny. Frankly, I'm irritated by your cynical sense and I doubt Harry is entertained by this petulant behavior. It's unmistakably similar to the situation in which Luna couldn't find herself a date to the ball. She driveled on and on about how useless and pointless love was, until she met Colin. Look at them now-" Hermione pointed to Luna and Colin, who were both snuggling up against each other at the Ravenclaw table. "They are very much in love and all negative thoughts towards love were quickly forgotten. Can you not follow that example?"

Harry nodded, opening his mouth to speak, "Yep. Shef righuh."

"That's nauseating, Harry. Close your mouth," ordered Ginny, picking up a napkin and flinging it at him. "You've got chicken all over your jumper. It's not attractive."

He looked up and glowered at her. "Well, I'm sorry, Miss Pessimistic," he mocked, wiping his mouth. "Is the food in my mouth that awful to see chewed up? It can't be as worse as hearing you grumble on and on. You're being daft and I'd rather not sit here and hear your relentless whining."

With that said, Harry stood up angrily, throwing the napkin violently back onto the table. He trudged away from her and Hermione, fuming.

"Happy, Gin?" Hermione inquired, filling her plate. "You've just succeeded in pissing Harry off. Good show, chap."

Refusing to reply, Ginny glimpsed across from her and spotted a red card, adorned with glitter and sequins. She picked it up hurriedly and opened it. She read:

_Harry,_

_Enclosed I placed an animal that reflects the love I have for you. It's adorable, love. You'll thoroughly enjoy it. You'll receive it just before you read this. I hope it isn't so livid. It hissed at me just this morning for stuffing it into an envelope._

_All my love._

"Who in the hell-"

Before Ginny could finish her sentence, a loud gasp was heard throughout the Great Hall.

"Ronald Weasley!" screeched Hermione. "What have you done!"

Dropping the card quickly, Ginny risked looking up and her eyes immediately widened at the sight of her brother. Ron's left eye sported a large purple bruise and the lip, which Hermione loved to nibble on, was cut in three different places. A patch of cuts ran down from his cheek and neck and by the time Ginny found her voice to talk, Ron spoke up.

"That blasted Malfoy thought it would funny to blacken your name with flimsy rumors," Ron explained. "I showed that bastard a thing or two."

Hermione growled deep in her throat and grabbed Ron by the arm, examining his injuries. "You're a fool, Ron. I've told you time and time again that fighting is not the answer. Malfoy will get what's coming to him."

"Mr. Weasley!" snapped Professor McGonagall, who appeared at the scene. She looked flustered as ever, probably because her students were always finding ways to get into trouble. "What has happened to you?"

Ron looked proud. "I beat the shit out of Draco Malfoy, Professor," he said pompously. "The git's lying somewhere in the Charms hallway as we speak."

"Think again, Weasley," drawled a cold voice from the front of the Hall.

Ginny stood up and peered at an equally, maybe more, injured boy. His blonde hair mussed up to one side and only one of his eyes was open. His very expensive collared shirt appeared to be burnt off at the bottom and one of his shoes was missing.

He was a walking mess.

"Ronald Weasley," Ginny hissed dangerously. "Mum specifically told you to cease with all this fighting. You don't even play fair!" she accused. "Seven galleons say that you used your wand in this _muggle_ duel."

Ron blushed furiously. "Hey!" he defended.

In the blink of an eye, Malfoy whipped out his own wand and stated, "_Valete Fantumine_!"

Ron spun around and was thrown from one side of the room to the other, leaving Ginny and Hermione staring at Malfoy dumfounded.

Hermione seethed. "He thinks he can get away with anything, can he?" she whispered to herself, grasping her wand and directing it to him. "You leave him alone, Malfoy."

Malfoy chuckled. "What are you doing to do, Granger? Are you that courageous to go and break a rule? Consequences are mighty high. We don't want a nick in your record, now do we?"

_What was that spell called_? Hermione asked herself. _Septimite Callome_? _Septimate Shallum_?

Deciding to take the gamble and guard her boyfriend, Hermione yelled defiantly, "_Semineate Hocklum_!"

A large orb of dark red formed at the end of Hermione's wand and as it grew larger, time stilled around them in a whirlwind of frenzy. Ginny was in the process of taking out her wand, Snape was dashing down towards them, and Ron was yelling a string of profanity at Malfoy.

Hermione held her ground strongly, fighting the pit of weakness that tugged at her mind. Her arm was tired of holding on and the orb grew heavier and heavier. As if the orb knew what she was thinking, its weight lifted and it soon jetted to Malfoy at a lightning speed.

Just as it hit him, her vision went white and all she felt was her body being lifted off the ground and thrown onto something bouncy and soft.

**

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Her mother once told her that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. That was the first moral she learned ever since she was born. Men were easy to capture once you've accomplished feeding them something that they'll want to eat for the rest of their lives.

At this point, Ginevra Weasley was dreaming about feeding a very attractive man a bowl of pudding. It was her favorite flavor; vanilla. It smelled of heaven and sweetness all wrapped in delightfulness.

_"It's delicious, love," the stranger commented, opening his mouth for more._

_Ginny giggled loudly. "It's my mum's recipe. She won't let me leave anywhere without it," she explained, leaning closer and sucking the dollop of pudding off his tongue. "I love you," she whispered, dropping the spoon and pouncing on him._

_He groaned deeply and fell back into his chair, sending them toppling to the ground. His shirt somehow disappeared and her pants were no longer on._

_"The spell, Gin," he panted, pulling away reaching for her wand._

_Ginny opened her eyes in bliss and looked down at him. "Why would we need the spell? We're married, Dr-"_

"Ginny!" interrupted a frantic voice. "Ginny, wake up! This isn't the time your vivid _sex_ dreams!"

Ginny awoke with a start, her eyes crusty and her mouth watering. "What? Who? When?" she asked groggily, pushing tendrils of her hair back. Her eyes flew open and the first thing she spotted was a curly strand of her between her eyes. She stared at it in confusion. "My hair's curly?" she asked herself. "But, I don't remember charming it to curl."

"That's not the only problem," said a nervous voice. "Ginny, I don't think we're in the Gryffindor dorms. You're not bedding with me and I'm definitely not bedding with you. We're in two different years. How did we end up here? Where's Ron? Where's Harry?"

Hermione paced the floor hysterically, mumbling incoherent phrases and folding her shaking arms across her chest.

Fully conscious now, Ginny pushed the covers down and ran for the mirror in the corner of the room. She took one good look at herself and almost fainted at the spectacle.

Her short, straight hair was no longer in view. She clearly owned a mop of long, curly hair. Its color was not of that vapid red dye, but of a radiant scarlet. The light that peeked through the window caught the lighter highlights in her tresses. It reached just above her waist and even her figure was disfigured, or at least that's how she put it. Her slim shape was no longer just thin and straight, but curvier and much more filling. Her hips stood out more and her chest, well, it was so supple, Ginny thought she'd be able to milk it right then and there. She was wearing nothing but a nightgown, that didn't really cover much on her body. It consisted of lace and sheer material, showing Ginny's obvious features.

"Ginny?" Hermione snapped, disregarding the other sleeping girls in the room. "Are you even listening to me? Bloody hell, we have to get back to our dorms! I'm worried about Ronald and I don't want Harry to stay mad at you!"

"Look in the mirror, Hermione," Ginny demanded softly, fiddling with her clothing. "Look at your reflection and tell me that I'm still sane."

Puzzled, Hermione leisurely sauntered over to her friend and faced the mirror. Her reaction was just as stunned and surprised as Ginny's, but her mirror image, it was exceedingly different. Gone was the bushy, short hair of the famed Head Girl. Instead, atop her head, lay a streaming length of straight locks. The bland shade of brown grew different shades of chocolate, each accenting different parts of her features. Her height had been accentuated a few extra inches and the chest that she once cursed blossomed tremendously.

_Sweet Circe_, she cursed, _I'm actually attractive_.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed, "I'm starting to think that we're still fixed in a dream."

Ginny pinched her arm lightly and winced. "It's no dream, Hermione. This is _real_. This is _reality_."

"You mind doing us all a favor and shutting the hell up?" spat an irate voice. "We've got class in twenty minutes. What are you two _cows_ doing up?"

Both young women spun around and faced a very angry and very red Millicent Bullstrode. Her usual black hair was spun into a bun and her dark eyes glared at them sternly.

Not knowing how to respond or act, Hermione simply nodded and grabbed two robes that were dangling off what she guess was her desk. "We'll just be taking a walk," she explained, smiling weakly.

Hermione handed Ginny the other robe and they quickly put them on, ignoring Millicent's wandering eyes and curious stares.

Ginny looked down at her robes and sighed in relief. The crest on her breast-pocket was still that of Gryffindor. What caught her eye was the badge next to it. "Merlin, Hermione," she whispered, "I'm a bloody prefect!"

Hermione's eyes dashed to the shining brooch. "Come on. Let's go take a walk around the lake. We'll figure this thing out."

Swallowing hard and breathing heavily, Ginny trailed behind Hermione and ran down the steps, past a few students. They sprinted out the portrait door, through the halls, and out into the yard. Hermione looked up at the sun and shut her eyes, stating softly, "A world without the sun isn't a world at all. Count your blessings when the bright rays appear on your face."

"A muggle saying?" Ginny asked, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder in reassurance. "What are we going to do?"

Pursing her lips in determination, Hermione turned to Ginny and opened her mouth to speak-

"Ginny! Hermione!"

Hoping for a familiar face, both girls turned.

"Bloody fuck," Ginny cursed, unable to control her emotions.

Pansy Parkinson, in all her glory, came running towards them, her long, blonde hair shadowing behind her. Her face was set in a smile and she was waving a paper in her hand enthusiastically. "You can't believe what happened! You got in, Gin! You got in!"

Finally reaching them, Pansy threw her body onto Ginny and wrapped her in a huge embrace. "We've waited so long and now we've got it! I can't believe it myself, Ginny! Isn't this just perfect?" Pansy pulled back and beamed at them.

They simply stood there speechless.

Pansy seemed irked by their odd behavior. "You chits alright, there? Hermione, aren't you the least bit joyful for Ginny? You were there with us when we filled out the application. This is an opportunity for her to further her learning with Potions."

Ginny gaped at her. "_Potions_? Are you bloody kidding me?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Pansy looked taken back. "Christ, Ginny. Do you want to calm down a bit? What's gotten into you two? Well, just yesterday you were awaiting this letter and now we've finally got it. Ginny, you were accepted," she informed slowly.

"Accepted _where_?" Hermione asked, leaning in to huddle with the girls.

"Have you lost your mind?" inquired Pansy, astounded to the core. "Ginny's been accepted into Beauxbatons, of course."

"Why on earth would I ever apply there?"

If Pansy could be anymore flabbergasted, her heart would stop. "Are you sure you're Ginevra Weasley?"

"Are you even sure you're Pansy Parkinson?" retorted Hermione.

Too immersed in the fact that Ginny was accepted and desiring to know what else had occurred, both girls ignored the plan to find their way home and requested as much information as possible.

"Why would I apply there?"

"What'd she apply for?"

"Who's in charge of this?"

"Do you know when she's going to attend?"

"Why are you being so nice?"

"Have you lost _you're_ mind?"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Pansy ordered, putting up both her hands for an effect. "What's going on here? You guys are beginning to scare me! Will you please fill me in on your incredibly unusual conduct while we go to breakfast?

On the hunt for needed data, Ginny nodded hastily and bolted just next to Pansy, snatching the letter from her hands and reading it herself. "Miss Weasley - blah, blah, blah – I'm very happy to inform you of your acceptance to Beauxbatons for our accelerated Potions program. We hope to hear from you in the next week for accommodations, administration, and your first tour."

Hermione filched the letter from Ginny's hand and scanned the page. "This is an official letter, Ginny," she stated, "It's got the French stamp and everything."

Pansy snorted. "What did you both expect? A phony note? I highly doubt that. Ginny did marvelous on her application essay. I almost broke down in tears when I read it," she teased, throwing them a smile.

Overcome with alarm and overwhelmed with their current circumstances, Ginny disregarded the fact that Pansy Parkinson, spawn of the devil, was actually _joking_ around with them.

Her hair whipped around her face randomly and Ginny growled in frustration, flitting it away from her eyes. "I hate this hair," she snarled.

They entered the Great Hall and the first task Hermione performed was finding Ron and Harry. She slowly walked behind Pansy and Ginny, her head turning left and right, her eyes inspecting every inch of the Gryffindor table. "Where are they?" she asked herself.

"Come on, Hermione," Pansy chirped, pointing to the end of the table. "Millie and Luna are waiting for us."

"Bullstrode and Luna are waiting for us," Hermione mimicked, her brain swirling. "Bullstrode and Luna? Are you sure you're not going mad, Parkinson? Do you have a fever?" Hermione touched a hand to her own forehead. "Maybe it's me with the bloody fever."

"Fever? Hermione, you're really kidding with me, aren't you? Why do you keep referring to Millie and me by our surnames?"

Ginny expressionlessly sat down, incapable of showing anything but pure, unadulterated blankness. Everything happened so fast, that her mind stopped all functioning. "I think I'm going to die," she muttered.

"Millie," Pansy acknowledged, "Luna, Mione and Gin are a bit out of it today." She spared them a glance. "I think they're keeping things from us," Pansy whispered, giggling.

"When have we known Parkinson to actually _giggle_?" Ginny asked Hermione, staring at Pansy as if she was a Slytherin; technically, she was.

"At this point, Ginny," Hermione voiced, "I'm more set on finding Ron and Harry. I don't see them _anywhere_."

"What are you two bints whispering about?" Luna asked, lifting her fork and eating her apple pie.

"They should be here, Hermione!" Ginny protested, ignoring everything Luna said, "They're bloody Ron and Harry!"

Millie looked confused. "Ron and Harry? Why the hell would you even bother looking for those two pr-"

"Excuse me, students," Dumbledore announced, gaining all the attention of everyone in the room. "All Seventh Year students please follow Professor Snape out of the Great Hall and outside. The assembly will begin in a few moments."

Cheers erupted in the hallway and every seventh year student stood up hastily and jetted out of the Great Hall, gleeful at the thought of missing their classes that day.

Hermione threw Ginny a panicked look. "I can't leave you," she whispered, being tugged away by a very excited Millie. "Bloody hell, Bullstrode, if you heave harder I won't have connected limbs!"

Ginny stayed sitting, watching as her classmates depart the room, leaving her to wallow in alarm.

Pansy spun around and addressed her. "Ginny? Earth to Ginny? What are you doing? Get up. We've got to go. We don't want all those horrid Slytherins getting the best seats, do we?"

Before Ginny could retort, Pansy lugged her by the elbow and dragged her down the aisle, along with the other seventh years. "You can't keep straying away. I feel like you've developed some type of memory loss." Pansy halted and stared at her. "Have you been dabbling in Potions again? I know you're a master in that area, but I've told you, repeatedly, to stop with that! It can be dangerous!"

"Um …" Ginny trailed off, looking around to find Hermione. "Where are we going?"

"To the assembly," Pansy replied, proceeding to haul Ginny across the room.

They finally reached the Great Hall's entrance, where a mob of students loitered. They were each being seated individually, to avoid chaos. The teachers thought this to be a good plan; the students thought this to be a horrible plan.

"Ginny!" Hermione screeched, pulling out of Millie's grasp and pushing Luna out of the way. "What are you doing? They said seventh years!"

Pansy snorted. "What other year would Ginny be in? She's _in _our class, Mione. Are you sure you're okay? Did you want to eat something?"

The concerned glint in Pansy's eyes was back again; it made Ginny shudder.

"Harry, please, I would never touch that!" boasted a voice, undeniably recognizable.

Hermione and Ginny gave each other one look and ran towards that voice. "She's not even attractive and that hair! Bloody hell, you can spot it from a mile away!"

"Ronald!" Hermione bellowed, out of breath. "We've g-got to talk to you!"

Ginny looked joyous at the sight of her brother. "Thank Merlin!" she praised. "Ron, what's going on? Hermione and I woke up this morning and-"

"Weasley, what are you contriving now?" Ron spat, crossing his arms. "Oh," he realized, "you're at that insurgent phase again, aren't you?"

Hermione looked scandalized. "Ronald, how dare you!" she scolded, swatting his shoulder.

He glared at the spot as if she burned him. "Watch the robes, Granger," he sneered, "they were costly. I wouldn't want to have to inquire a _Mudblood_ to repay the damage."

"What?" breathed Hermione, her heart racing. "What did you call me?"

"You heard him, _Mudblood_," snarled another voice; another familiar voice.

Ginny spun around and faced the man she thought she would marry; the man with gorgeous emerald eyes and messy, dark hair. "Harry," she recognized.

His gaze fixated upon her. "Weasley, kindly exit yourself out of my way," he grinned smugly, "and my airspace."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Granger and Weasley would actually muster up the courage to approach us," commented a very haughty Draco Malfoy.

_At least some things never change_, Ginny thought angrily.

His usual demeanor did nothing for Ginny. He was still the same, spoilt and cruel boy she has ever known. His eyes held their usual superiority and his stance mirrored everything megalomania.

He remained unperturbed under Ginny's cold gaze. "Ogling at things you know you'll never fetch is something only Weaselys do," he spat callously, pursing his lips in disgust.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, tranquil. "Insulting those who are above you _and_ your _murdering_ family is something only Malfoys do," she retorted, flipping her hair back. "And, mind you, they do it rather well, considering that the only trash I _see_ and _smell_ is _you_."

"What happened to you?" Hermione questioned gently, staring at Ron with sadness.

He simply smirked at her and nodded for his posse to head for the door. "We're being assigned seating," he informed them. He glanced Hermione up and down and stated, "Slytherins always go first. They're void of Mudbloods," he then looked at Ginny, "and Muggle-lovers."

"See you later, Granger," Theodore Nott said silkily, giving Hermione a wink. He licked his lips at Ginny and proceeded to the door behind his friends.

Incredulous, Ginny twirled to Hermione, ready to give her a piece of her mind. "I cannot believe this! What dimension would ever be-"

Ginny stared at her best friend and felt her bravery crumble.

In only a matter of seconds, a single tear cascaded down Ginny's cheek and landed directly on her Prefect's badge.

Pansy appeared next to them. "They're ready for us! Come on, girls, let's-" She eyed both her friends and took a deep inhale.

She immediately seized Hermione and Ginny and stalked out of the hall and into the corridors, not questioning and not speaking at all. All that was heard was heavy breathing, quiet sobs, and the desperation in Pansy's footsteps.

**

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	2. Chapter II l The Plan

**'The Plan'  
Chapter II**

**.x.**

After entering the seventh year dorms, shutting the door and dumping two crying girls on her bed, Pansy Parkinson situated high and tall before them, both of her hands on her hips. She scowled, "What the hell is going on? What's with all this nonsense blubbering and facing Potter, Nott, Malfoy _and_ Grant?"

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Who's Grant?" she asked wearily.

For the millionth time that day, Pansy looked bemused. "Ronald Grant? Malfoy's cousin? Spawn of the _devil_ himself?"

Ginny grunted. "Spawn of the devil," she mumbled, "_my_ brother, Ron."

"Your _brother_, Ron?" Pansy inquired, staggered. "What is going on! I'm your best friend! I should have _every_ right to know what's happening! I can help you, you know!" she rambled irritably. "Whatever problems you have, you should _know_ to come to me! Bloody hell, I'm missing a muggle assembly, which I was fascinated by, to stay up here with _you two_ _loons_!"

"You won't believe us if we told you," Ginny voiced, putting on a cool façade. She was sick and tired of wailing like a child and right now, what Hermione needed was her endless support.

Pansy raised a blonde eyebrow. "Try me."

Hermione glanced out the window and spotted a bright mass of red hair. Her eyes instantaneously filled up with another round of tears. "Your name is Pansy Parkinson and you're a pureblood Slytherin. You are infatuated with Draco Malfoy and here, in Hogwarts, you're maimed the school harlot. You hop around from duvet to duvet, prowling on the men who desire your body. You do all this, because, although you may be detached, you are in love with Malfoy."

"My brother's name is Ronald Billius Weasley," Ginny said aloud. "We have five other brothers and we live in a small house in the countryside. Ronald speaks when his mouth is full, helps when it is not needed and turns away when you ask for him." A small smile appeared on her face. "He sings lullabies to our little cousins and he saves his money to buy me new robes." Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall, she whispered, "I miss him."

Pansy sat in-between them, patient and silent. "I'm going to rest here and listen to everything you have to tell me. I'm going to listen to every word you have to say. And when you're finished, I will only believe the phrases that will seep from your mouths. Don't lie to me," she ordered gently. "I've never lied to you."

**.x.**

"Can you believe those chits?" Harry whispered over to Ron, who lounged lazily in his seat. "Sliding up to us as if we'd give them the time of day."

Ron threw him a sluggish look and shrugged. "It's over. Forget it. They were dense, end of story."

Harry growled. "And that Granger," he said her name as if it was the plague itself, "reprimanding you for speaking to Weasley that way. She's intolerable."

Stretching high in his seat, Ron peered over the heads before him and onto the stage. "I hope this muggle assembly is interesting."

"Are you even listening, mate?" Harry asked.

"Nope," Ron replied, distracted.

Harry sighed in impatience. "I mean," he continued, as if Ron never spoke, "who does she think she is? She's a _Mudblood_ for Circe's sake! She was born into impurity and she had the _impudence_ to speak to me? Her and that unattractive straight hair. Those gleaming hazel eyes that seem to stop you in your step and strangle you."

Draco waved a dismissive hand, listening in on the conversation. "Granger wasn't the only bloody trollop. The screws in Weasley's head have apparently gone loose. I'm beginning to think that being a Muggle-lover _and_ underprivileged isn't the only thing she is. She's gone mad in the brain."

"I don't know what you two chaps are rambling about," Theodore voiced, "but, I personally find Granger and Weasley both very appealing and very striking."

"You know what I think?" Ron growled in disturbance. "I think you three _fairies_ should shut your bloody gobs and let me see the _goddamn assembly_!"

Ronald's voice was so deafening, that many of the students mistook it for the roar of a lion, or some other savage beast. Several of the Hufflepuff girls squeaked in fear.

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Touchy, touchy," he commented.

**.x.**

Luna's face contorted into what looked like revulsion, fury and fright. "You want me to do _what_!" she inquired doubtfully.

Pansy grinned feebly and backed away. "Luna, we really need your help with this. Hermione's got to speak with Grant and I'm afraid that if she doesn't," Pansy glanced at the earnest Hermione, "she might just break down."

"Why do _I_ have to do this!" she screeched. "Why not _Millie_!"

Three hours, one lunch and one outburst after the assembly, all five Gryffindor girls plopped themselves under a large, oak tree by the lake.

Ginny grabbed Luna by the shoulder, fortitude in her eyes, and simply stated, "Bullstrode doesn't have what you have." She paused and looked at Millie. "No offense, Bullstrode, but Luna's got enough chest for the five of us."

Luna blushed madly. "It's not like I asked for them, you know," she mumbled, zippering up her jumper.

"But, you're grateful you've been bestowed them," Hermione retorted, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"So, Luna," Pansy said, "will you do it?"

Reluctantly, she nodded. "Yeah. Just tell me what I need."

**.x.**

Hermione bit her lip anxiously just inside a hidden corridor. She stood by a tiny window, staring out into the grass at Luna, Pansy, Millie and Ginny. All four feigned conversation, but Hermione knew what they were about to perform.

Ronald and Theodore just sat a couple of feet away from them, perched on a green, velvet cloak. Ron was idly eating an apple and Theodore scoped out many of the giggling girls surrounding them.

Making a swift move, Ron stood up and patted his clothing, motioning for Theodore to follow him back into the castle. "Let's go," he stated brusquely, stalking away, his head held high.

Hermione's eyes widened in panic as Theodore rose up. "Come on, Luna," she whispered. "Don't let him leave with Ron."

Luna's head immediately snapped to their direction, as if she heard Hermione's pleas. Noticing his movements, Luna laughed at the top of her voice, catching his full attention. She smiled broadly, almost teasingly, as she slowly ran her fingers down her chest to her jumper zipper.

Theodore's eyes stayed fixated on her hands, as they seductively pulled the zipper down, her contained bosoms coming free.

"Theodore!" Ron bellowed, at the doors already. "Are you coming!"

Theodore waved a flippant hand. "Go without me," he instructed. "I'm busy."

He, then, sauntered over to a now nervous Luna, his face set in a mischievous grin.

**.x.**

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione quickly tore herself away from the window and towards the direction in which Ronald would soon arrive. Her palms were soaked with sweat and all she could do was stand there, hoping and praying that her logic would somehow bring him to her.

Upon hearing loud, brisk footsteps, Hermione snapped her head up and hid behind a large tapestry. He neared her and way before he could react – before he could even catch his breath – Hermione tugged him into the deserted passage and pushed him up against the wall.

"I know what you're thinking," Hermione said abruptly.

"Granger?" Ron asked, disdainfully. "Ugh, not _you_ again."

Hermione refused to cry. "You will listen to me good, Ronald Weasley. What I have to say is very important and completely mental, but I only hope you'll absorb it with a clear mind."

"Get off me!" Ron bellowed, shoving her to the adjacent wall.

Hermione hit the concrete with a smack, her hair flying into her face. She screeched painfully and sank to the ground – thoughts of Ronald and her plan disappearing. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes to the beautiful material of her robe. Her sobs did nothing to stop the red-head from scoffing and leaving her there, not a care in the world.

"Why?" she asked herself, fisting a large portion of her robe and stuffing her red face into it. "Why did it have to be us?"

Prior to all this madness – to all the craziness that ensued – Hermione was a happy teenage girl. She harbored the love of her boyfriend, Ron, and the care of her best friends, Harry and Ginny. There may have been bumps along the way, but after each sickening mishap, she always found her way home. It doesn't matter what you do or how you do it – who you're with or who you refuse to see – life always seems to take you back to where you started from. You end up in that same spot - free of the drama filled past and free of the ties that held you down.

You were _free_.

And when that time came, Hermione would smile openly and thank the Gods that she finally reached the point in her life where she can laugh at any stupid joke, cry at any silly movie, and be blissful at any romantic moment.

"Hello?" inquired a deep voice.

Alarmed at the idea of someone finding her like this, Hermione hastily stood up and wiped her face. She pulled all her hair back into a low bun and took three deep breaths.

"I'm alright!" she said back, her voice oozing with verve.

Spinning around to face the intruder, Hermione squinted her eyes out of habit, watching as the draping was pulled away, revealing the harsh sunlight and a very tall, muscular boy.

"Ron?" she whispered to herself.

Fully opening her eyes, she stood before a dark-haired, green-eyed, confused boy. He held the tapestry with one hand, his head peeking in gently.

"What's going on, Granger?" he asked, malice no where to be heard.

The sight of that face and the sound of that voice, a new batch tears trickled down her eyes, her cheekbones, and her chin. She approached him slowly, her slender hand reaching out to cup his face.

His eyes widened at the thought of a Mudblood ever touching him, but he didn't move away, nor did he flinch. Her touch was surprisingly tender and all he could focus his mind on was those beautiful hazel eyes – those eyes that burned for something; something that wasn't there.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed devastatingly. "I know you're there deep inside you. You may not be him – my best friend – but, I know you're there. I can see it in your eyes."

She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his nose. "Can you hear me, Harry?" she asked, her eyes searching for that hidden soul that was lost in the depths of him. "Will you follow my voice?"

Without a single rational contemplation – without even wasting an inhale – Harry pushed forward, angling his head to the right, moving his hand away from the drapery –

And he kissed her.

**.x.**


	3. Chapter III l The Game

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Chapter III – The Game

When morning arose the next day, two incredibly fatigued girls slumbered in their soft, comfortable beds, forgetting the world that went on without them. Light escaped into their room from the corner of the curtains, shedding a bright illumination on the top of their heads.

Dreaming, the two girls both smiled at the same time, remembering a point in their lives when everything wasn't so chaotic.

"Rise and shine!" squealed a loud voice.

And, then, the chaos returned.

"Bloody hell, Parkinson," Ginny mumbled, burying herself further into her covers. "I'm trying to sleep here. The alarm hasn't even gone off. It's bloody Saturday."

"First of all, Ginny, this isn't Pansy," Luna informed her haughtily, "and secondly, you need to get up off your arse. It's already nine o'clock and practice has already ended. Everyone's waiting for you. You've never forgotten a bloody practice before. You've also never forgotten a _game_."

Hermione peeked at Luna from under the covers. "Practice for what?" she asked, half asleep.

Luna rolled her eyes. "Don't play this forgetful game with me, again. Hermione, you've got to get up, too. You need to eat. Remember the last time? You _fainted_ right after you caught the snitch."

Hermione slowly rose up from her bed into a sitting position. "_Excuse me_?" she asked, "the _snitch_!"

"Get up, you bloody harpies," Luna commanded, grabbing Ginny's sheets and flinging them off of her. "Ginny, you need hurry. You've got a pep talk to give soon. Go put your Quidditch gear on. It's in the bottom of your trunk."

Ginny groaned. "Luna, if you don't shut your bloody gob-"

"May I remind you, Ginevra," Luna intervened sweetly, "you were the one who blindly requested for me to help Hermione with her mission in speaking to Grant? The consequences of this _task_ were nothing but nauseating and horrendous. Nott won't leave me alone and Millie, who I'm fighting very hard to hex, apparently thinks that I'm going to marry him. Quite the predicament, is it not?"

"_The snitch_!" Hermione repeated, eying the Quidditch robes Luna whipped out from her trunk. "Luna, whatever are you do-" Her sentence was cut off, for the heavy material landed on her body, fully covering her.

"Get dressed," Luna snapped, exhausted by their absentminded behavior, "I'm sick and tired of this charade. We'll be waiting by the pitch."

With that, Luna flipped her long, blonde hair back and left the room.

"_Va switch_!" Hermione tried to say, her voice muffled.

Realizing the situation, Ginny's eyes widened. "_Pep_ talk?" she asked herself. "The _snitch_? _Quidditch_ robes?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she managed to croak, "We're on the Quidditch team."

**.x.**

Wringing a fistful of her Quidditch attire in her hands, Ginny smiled weakly at her team before her, all waiting for the ever encouraging speech. She swallowed hard and glanced at Hermione, who was so absorbed in catching the snitch, that she's already mounted her broom, hands shaking.

"Okay," Ginny announced, catching everyone's attention. "We're going to win – and, we're to not lose. Why? Because, well, we're Gryffindors! We – um – know what we're doing! That's right! So, let's just go out there and," she threw up a fist, "kick some Slytherin ass!"

This seemed to somehow rile them up and before she knew it, her team went into a frenzy of screams, yells, and cheering.

The doors sprung open and a huge beam of light landed on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The crowd surrounding the pitch stood up and everything turned into an uproar. Flags were being swung, horns were being blown, and the announcer spoke loudly.

"Lead by Captain Ginny Weasley, the Gryffindor team still remains undefeated, ahead of the other three teams towards the House Cup. Entering the pitch is Pansy Parkinson, keeper, followed by Luna Lovegood and Andrew Flint, beaters, Teddy Woods and sister, Lilac Woods, chasers, and finally, our crowd-loving seeker, Hermione Granger!" Vincent Crabbe bellowed, cheering along with the mass of people.

All members of the team stood at the bottom of the pitch, being admired, and being screamed for. Hermione held her broom shakily, her eyes dashing back and forth on the pitch. Ginny glanced at her and could've sworn Hermione was having a spasm attack. Her arms were trembling and her bottom lip jutted out with fear. Ginny watched as Teddy put his arm around her shoulders, whispering encouraging words in her ear.

"For the other cheating and always defeated team, come the Slytherins!" Vincent roared, pointing to the opposite side of the pitch. "Taught poorly by Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin team continues to play ruthlessly and against the rules! Following the Slytherin king are Ronald Grant, seeker, Harry Potter, keeper, Theodore Nott, Padma Patil, chasers, and Dennis and Colin Creevey, beaters!"

Ginny took a deep breath. "Let the games begin," she and Crabbe stated together.

**.x.**

Ginny frantically pushed past the mass of students before her. They all stood before the Infirmary, where Hermione was being treated. Apparently, the thought of a Potter and a Granger together was catastrophe and the mere idea of him saving her was astonishing.

"Move," Ginny hissed, shoving a sixth-year Slytherin out of her way. Only then did she notice that it was Colin's younger brother, Dennis – the same boy who burned half her robes during the game.

"What the bloody hell is happening to the world?" she asked herself, finally standing before the wooden doors.

Grasping the handle and preparing to open the door, she was suddenly shoved out of the way and into another being.

"Out of the way, Weasley," Draco Malfoy sneered, Nott and Ron lingering behind him.

The body beside her enveloped her in a hug. "There you are!" a deep voice exclaimed.

Ginny spun around and faced a built boy, taller then her, brown eyes gleaming, and dark hair blowing in nonexistent wind. His cheeks were chubby, but it defined his face more then actually weighing it down. His arms, wrapped tightly around her, were snug and felt familiar, almost _normal_. His smile is what irked her the most. Ginny has seen that smile somewhere, only, not so warm, so caring.

"Where've you been, love? I've been in to see Hermione, but she's sleeping at the moment. I've been looking for you _everywhere_!" he jeered, holding her close.

_Circe, he's handsome_, Ginny thought, captivated by his eyes.

"Ginny, love?" he asked, shaking her gently. "Pansy said you've been in a bit of a muddle. I was out on a Herbology trip yesterday and I didn't get the chance to give you a proper hello." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and leaned forward, capturing Ginny's lips with his. His wandering tongue softly made its way through the seam of her lips and into her mouth, both surprising and satisfying her.

Ginny eventually pulled away and took a deep breath. "What?" she asked, dazed.

Somewhere behind her, someone scoffed. "Get a bloody room," Ginny heard someone mutter.

She spun around once more and glared at Malfoy. "If you don't like what you see," Ginny challenged, "then leave. No one asked you here. Why is everyone huddled here anyway? Do you not have a life in which you can go and dawdle on?"

He snarled. "Why don't you take _Goyle_ over here and snog in the library. Merlin knows you do it every other bloody day," he suggested, his hands balled up in fists.

Aggravated, Ginny stepped forward, disregarding the name he uttered. "Is your life so soporific, that you have to hunt out others for your own pleasure?"

His face inched closer. "You know nothing of pleasure," he whispered, lowering his voice, so that only she can hear.

Ginny stood ground. "I believe I do," she retorted. "It's you, _Malfoy_, who knows nothing about _giving_ pleasure. I wouldn't be surprised if I had to disabuse you on a few things, let alone try and help the poor trollops who've established a life of ennui because of your lack of expertise."

His nose flared in anger. "Care to challenge that, Weasley?" he asked maliciously. "I'd be happy to show you a thing or two. I'll even trap you in fetters if you wish. Goyle can watch," he nodded to the seething boy, "Merlin knows he's immutable when it comes to pleasing women. He'll never change. And he'll never give you what I can."

Eyes widening, Ginny twirled around and faced the gorgeous, tanned boy. "_Gregory Goyle_?" she inquired, a hand to her heart.

Just at that moment, as if the world shifted and decided to make things worse, the wooden doors flung open and out came a livid Madam Pomfrey. "Every student must evacuate this part of the castle immediately!" she snapped, tapping her foot loudly. "The only students that I will permit into this room are Ginevra Weasley and Ronald Grant."

Hearing her name, Ginny quickly sprinted into the Infirmary, forgetting all that was said, and focusing on the matter at hand.

Hermione was hurt.

**.x.**

**_Author's Note:_** I've been receiving lots of questions on this story, pertaining mainly to the plot & some of my readers are confused. I can only tell you that if you do want some answers, please scurry over to my bio page & click on my livejournal link. Any questions can be answered there. Just comment, along with your FFNET username, and I'll give you an answer right away! You can also view my progress throughout the story & I'm only allowing my readers to demand chapters to my LiveJournal only. It's easier that way & less threatening. 

Happy reading!


	4. Chapter IV l It's Unorthodox

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Chapter IV – It's Unorthodox

* * *

Trembling, Ginny grasped Hermione's hand into hers and shut her eyes. Just a few feet away were Ron and Harry, both in the private section of the Infirmary. She didn't understand why Ron was still admitted here, especially after the horrible stunt he played during the game. Purposely hurting her like that sent chills down Ginny's spine – this was her brother after all.

"Chilly in here, isn't it?" croaked a voice.

Ginny's eyes flew open as she stared down at the battered Hermione. Her upper lip was swollen about three sizes, her hair was frizzy and damp with her blood, and the necklace she always wore was missing. "Oh, Gods, Hermione, your mother's necklace is gone!"

Hermione sighed sadly. "Yes, I know. It was the first thing I realized. I asked Luna to try and check the pitch for me, but she hasn't come back yet."

"Do you remember what happened, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, adjusting her comforters.

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears. "Yes, I remember," she answered, turning her head to look out the window. "I was trying so hard to catch the snitch, Ginny, I really was." Her voice cracked, and Ginny could hear the emotions running through Hermione's mind. "I finally spotted it and let my hand out, only to have a bludgers snap it into the other direction. I lost control and for a moment, I thought I was going to die. I looked up to yell for help when I saw Ron." Her chin dropped onto her chest as she sobbed gently. "He-he stared at me with these cold eyes and I felt like I was staring into the cruel eyes of Malfoy. He gave me this face and zoomed at me. I can only remember hitting my head against the walls of the pitch and after that - I thought we were back at home."

Ginny looked up in confusion. "What? Why?"

Lifting her head slowly, Hermione met Ginny's inquiring gaze, her face overwhelmed with scratches and bruises, and replied tenderly, "I opened my eyes and saw Harry."

**

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**

.x.

* * *

Walking back up to Gryffindor tower alone was the hardest thing Ginny had ever done. Leaving Hermione back there, in the dark, didn't better the situation. The week hadn't even ended and here she was, exhausted and homesick. Hermione had promised her the minute she was released, they would scurry over to the library and find the counter-curse. They had only hoped that it wouldn't take them, as they wanted to be home as soon as possible.

Ginny didn't care if this world existed, or if it was just an illusion. All she desired at that very moment was to be back at the real Hogwarts with her friends and family. She didn't want Pansy Parkinson as a best friend, or Gregory Goyle as a boyfriend. She wanted to be the plain, cynical Ginny everyone knew and loathed.

"I guess this means you won't be coming tonight."

Ginny squeaked in surprise and spun around, wand at the ready. Her nose flared at the sight of the disgusting creature. "Excuse me?" she snapped, irritated.

She didn't need this now – not after what had happened today.

"I haven't seen you in three days, Ginny. I'm getting restless," he continued, as if she never spoke.

Ginny growled. "Don't you dare call me that, Malfoy! You have no right to speak to me like that!"

He smirked. "Tense, are we? You and Goyle had a row?"

"That's none of your business!" Ginny retorted, glaring at him. _He's not supposed to be here_, she told herself. _This is Gryffindor halls_. Staring at his attire, Ginny wondered to herself why he was walking around dressed like that. He was devoid of his school robes and wearing a simple black jumper and black slacks. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be sleeping in that cell of yours?"

He grinned evilly. "That's the problem, Ginny," he stated. "I've been sleeping in that bloody cell for three days all by my lonesome. Now, where have you been?"

For a good few seconds, Ginny found herself perplexed. "What are you babbling about? Of course I wouldn't be in your rooms, you overconfident idiot! Why on earth would I even step foot there!"

He stepped alarmingly closer, backing her up against the wall, just two halls away from her tower. "No one's here, Ginny. There's no need to put on a show," he whispered silkily, his hands on either side of her head.

Ginny's eyes widened and she gripped her wand tighter. It pointed just to the middle of his chest – just above the Slytherin crest necklace he was wearing. "I'm warning you, Malfoy," she said feebly, "You better lay off for I'll-"

"You'll what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

In one swift second, he grabbed her wand and flung it to the other side of the hall, effectively rendering Ginny both speechless and terrified.

Ginny stared helplessly as her wand rolled into a corner. "Malfoy," she begged, "please let me go."

"Look at me, Ginny," he ordered, his nose on her cheek.

Slowly turning, Ginny stared up into the deep pools of gray that were his eyes. They were nose-to-nose, and Malfoy didn't seem perturbed by it at all. He looked as if he was enjoying this – as if he was planning on enjoying it all night.

Stiffened with fright, Ginny could only watch as he let his hand dip down further, to the hem of her skirt. He fiddled with it for a bit, his fingers occasionally brushing her thighs. Refusing to believe that this felt good, Ginny mumbled, "Please stop."

He ignored her and proceeded with his doing. He hefted up the skirt higher, scaring Ginny even more. What startled her most was that the invasion almost felt familiar – it was as if her body was welcoming whatever Malfoy had to offer.

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught when his hands found her knickers. He rubbed over them in soft, lazy circles, his hands knowing just where and when to touch her.

Ginny quivered, horrified. Her hand shot out and grasped his wrist, stopping all movement. "Don't," she pleaded. "Please don't."

He stared down at her. "You weren't so resisting last Saturday."

Ginny stared at him, stunned. "I-I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about!" she breathed.

He stepped closer and pressed his body onto hers. Ginny inhaled sharply as she felt the obvious bulge of his erection. He panted in her ear, frustrated. "Push me away," he commanded. "_Push me away_."

Hazy with his intoxicating voice, Ginny made a move to shove him away, until the tent of his pants hit just over her knickers. Her eyes opened, and before she could control it – before she even thought to stop – she moaned.

"Spread your legs," he ordered, unzipping his pants.

Ginny grasped his shoulders and tried to organize herself. She tried to rush past the evident lust and passion, but found herself drowning in it. She couldn't understand what was going on – especially with Malfoy. Only a day ago did he insult her and now he was trying to get into her knickers. He seemed so sure that she would comply – that she had done this once before. The way he said her first name and the way he looked at her irked her. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her and how.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the tearing of her knickers. Ginny cried in outrage. "_Malfoy, what're you doing_!" she shrieked.

He entered her in one, rapid motion that sent her hurdling into the wall. Her screeches transformed into moans of pleasure as he continued to thrust frantically inside of her, his hand gripping violently her bottom. Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist and began moving with his unsteady rhythm. He ripped apart her blouse one-handedly and growled at the sight of her without a bra. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, and as he pumped in and out of her, he rewarded her with a small nip.

Ginny gritted her teeth and expected some sort of pain in her lower regions, but felt nothing. Everything from that point on was pure bliss – the caresses on the back of her thighs, his right hand in-between her head and the wall, the way his mouth moved over her skin – it felt wonderful.

Soon enough, all the precepts she once followed flew out the door, and she allowed herself to take delight in this – this _thing_ that won't ever happen again once they reached home. Every caveat Ron had ever told her disintegrated as Malfoy pounded into her, clearly reaching his peak.

Ginny let her head fall back into his hand as she felt her body shatter into a million pieces. She writhed in what she could only categorize as pleasure, and felt Malfoy still his hips and jerk viciously into her. She hissed softly, feeling the result of his erection scalding inside of her.

He buried his face in her neck and muttered, "Is Granger alright?"

Ginny pulled away and stared incredulously into his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Granger – that nitwit friend of yours – is she still planning on living?"

Smiling tenderly, Ginny felt her heart swell up into her chest. For the many years she has known Malfoy, not once has he ever showed any concern in anything. She no longer cared if they blatantly had sex in the middle of the corridor, but at the fact that he actually _cared_ what happened to her best friend.

"She'll be just fine," Ginny responded honestly.

Everything silenced for a few minutes as Malfoy stared intently at her. He seemed to be contemplating something, and Ginny found it hard not to move, for he was still inside of her and her legs were still wrapped around his hips.

"I've missed you," he finally said, breaking the momentary pause of stillness.

Suddenly feeling horribly exposed, Ginny gently disentangled herself from him and smoothed down her skirt. "Malfoy," she began, her head down, "I don't usually-"

"If this is about Goyle, I've already given you the solution," he interjected effortlessly.

Her eyes widened at the mention of her _boyfriend_. "Oh, no," she whispered. She'd completely forgotten about Gregory and his sweet smile. Back at home, he and Malfoy were considered best friends, but, here, apparently, there were nothing more then enemies. What was she doing with Malfoy? Especially knowing that she was already taken? Did she have no morals? She may be living in another dimension, but that gave her no right to trifle with the feelings of others – particularly her boyfriend's.

"We have to stop this," she declared.

"Precisely what I was thinking," he agreed, arranging his clothing. "You'll break it off with that oaf tomorrow morning at breakfast," he ordered airily.

"_What_!"

"I'm tired of watching you two exchange mediocre snogs. We've talked about this, Gin. I'm not going to continue seeing you if you're marked as his," he explained, his voice oozing with authority.

Ginny looked scandalized. "Do you think you can just wave your hand and expect to do your bidding?"

"I expect you to honor this relationship – yes," he answered.

Ginny sputtered. "This – _this relationship_!" she screeched. "This isn't a relationship, Malfoy! This is unorthodox _fucking_ in the middle of the halls!"

He pinned her with a murderous glare. "I may enjoy fucking you mercilessly, Ginny, but that doesn't mean I don't benefit from hearing you speak, watching you think, or simply being near you," he sneered.

Ginny shut her eyes.

_Overwhelmed_.

That's exactly how she felt. Everything was plummeting towards her at top speed and she couldn't even take a moment to breathe. Not being able to confide in Ronald hit her harder than everything else. Hermione lying in that hospital bed, bruised and broken – that was the second worst thing that happened during this mishap. Now, Draco Malfoy was professing some sort of infatuation with her and demanding she end things with her current _boyfriend_, Gregory Goyle. There wasn't any time for dawdling – chiefly in a world like this.

"I have to go," Ginny decided, closing her blouse with wobbly hands.

He tugged her to him and they began walking in the opposite direction of her dorms. "What – Malfoy, stop! What are you _doing_?" she protested.

He turned back and smirked at her. "We've got seven hours until your debut at breakfast. I plan to use that time productively."

Ginny whimpered.

**

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**

.x.

* * *

Up in the large tower of the Infirmary, Hermione stared down at her mangled left hand and grimaced at the sight of it. It was heavily bundled into a bandage. Madam Pomfrey informed her that she was missing the main ingredient for the potion that was meant to heal her hand. _It'll be in by tomorrow morning, dear, _the woman cooed.

For the countless time that day, Hermione forced back another batch of tears. That horrifying gleam in Ron's eyes would be imprinted in her mind forever – even after they get home and into their normal lives. Hermione knew for sure that she would never see him the same again; that she would be afraid to touch someone that had injured her so ferociously.

And then there was Harry. A small smile flitted across her face as she recalled the strength of his arms around her, the expected flash of worry in his eyes when he stared down at her beaten face. A boost of confidence filled her as she pictured the kiss he gave her out of the blue. Not once has she ever picture Harry like – not even for one second. He was her best friend; her savior. He wasn't meant to take the place of Ron – the boy she planned on marrying.

"Hermione?" whispered a timid voice.

Alarmed, Hermione leapt up and gasped.

Pansy immediately situated her back down. "You shouldn't do that, 'Mione! You'll hurt yourself!" she scolded.

"What are you doing here, Parkinson? Visiting hours are already over!" Hermione stated, fearful of being caught.

Pansy sat beside her and smiled. "Luna and Millie were worried about you, so I volunteered to sneak down and see how you were doing. Are you okay?"

Grateful for the sweet gesture, Hermione smiled back. "I'll be just fine. Madam Pomfrey healed most of my injuries and I'll be out by tomorrow afternoon. You can tell Luna and," she paused, "_Millie_ that I'm well."

Pansy looked serious. "Did you get the chance to talk to Grant? I'm so sorry I wasn't back at the dorms before you were asleep. I had to speak to Professor Krum about Ginny's Potions final."

Hermione nearly choked on her own spit. "What – Professor Krum – he – I – _what_!"

"He's the Potions master here at Hogwarts. Is he not the same professor in your _world_ as well?" Pansy inquired, curious.

Hermione hastily shook her head. "Back at home, he's an international Quidditch player." Her breathing finally slowed. "He's our Potions master? Are you positively sure?"

"He has been for about three years now," she answered, grinning. "He's quite easy on the eyes, isn't he?"

"Yeah – well – we used to date," Hermione mumbled.

Pansy squealed. "_You and Professor Krum_? You lucky wench! No one's been able to get through the prude bastard ever since his marriage failed! That's the reason why he took the job in the first place. Professor Snape, he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he resigned as the Potions master and Krum took his place."

"Professor Snape? _He's_ the DADA teacher!"

"Of course. He's the most qualified and seeing as he defeated Voldemort when he was just a baby – I mean, who wouldn't hire him?"

Hermione's face twisted into bewilderment. _Professor Snape destroyed Voldemort_, she thought, _well, I'll be damned_.

"Hey, Hermione," Pansy said softly.

"Yeah?"

Pansy bit her lip nervously. "When I asked you about Grant, I really wanted to know what was going on with Potter. I followed Grant up the stairs and to you – and, well – when he hurt you like that – I hexed him as he walked back to his towers. I was just going to see you, when I saw Potter running over." Pansy looked up at Hermione, determination in her eyes. "Did you really kiss him, Hermione?"

Hermione stayed quiet.

"Because, if you did, I'd be fine with it. I just want you to be careful. He's a dangerous man, that Harry Potter. His friends aren't trustworthy either. You know that if you need any help whatsoever, we're all here for you, including Gin," Pansy finished, grabbing Hermione's right hand and squeezing. "All you need to do is ask."

"I like you better this way, Pansy," she whispered, using her first name for the first time. "If I could, I'd bring you back with us and switch you with the harlot-who-deserves-a-good-beating."

Pansy laughed. "I'd love it even more if you got to stay," she voiced.

Hermione glanced at the clock. "You should get going, Pansy. It's almost one in the morning. Professors are scanning the corridors at this time," she warned.

Pansy giggled and held up a silvery cloth. "They never catch me, 'Mione. Not when I have my Invisibility Cloak with me."

Hermione chuckled. _Oh, yeah_, she thought, _things are very different around here_.

"I'll be back with everyone tomorrow. Sleep tight, Hermione." Pansy squeezed her hand once more and then disappeared underneath the cloak.

When Hermione was sure she was gone, she mumbled, "This can easily be described as unorthodox."

**

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**

.x.

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End file.
